Making Men Again: Adventures in the Journey to Manhood

Six months ago, I crossed the threshold into fatherhood. Welcoming my newborn son into the world continued my quest to identify and embrace the nurturing father within me. I beheld my son, spoke his name for the first time, and felt my heart turn towards his in a bond of unconditional love. Sitting in the delivery room with my son nearby I considered the many adventures he would experience in his own journey and the role I would play in guiding him on his quest to manhood. In a moment of retrospection, I thanked all of the men that guided, mentored, coached, and nurtured me into the man and father I had become.

In my experience, many men have been shaped by the father wound, which can be described as the abandonment, distrust, and devastation felt by young men that have little to no contact with their biological fathers. There are no self-made men. When left to their own devices, young men develop their own rites and initiations in gangs and crews without the wisdom and guidance of the older men. With all the talk of making America great again, I wondered what it would mean for men to be intentional about making men again.

The days in our society when men took responsibility for guiding young men on the journey to manhood are gone. As Robert Bly notes in his book Iron John, “the fault is that the old men outside the nuclear family no longer offer an effective way for the son to break his link with his parents without doing harm to himself.” Our ancestors understood the importance of certain rites of passage in guiding boys in their communities on the journey to manhood. Men today can participate in this journey by reclaiming the rites of mentoring, coaching, fathering, and nurturing young men.

My African ancestors lost their rites in the Middle Passage. My forefathers replaced them with a Judeo-Christian heritage that I’ve come to embrace. This heritage is rooted in the biblical narrative and is filled with exemplars of the roles men can play in guiding young men along the adventures to manhood. As Paul writes to the church in Corinth: “For though you might have ten thousand guardians in Christ, you do not have many fathers. Indeed, in Christ Jesus, I became your father through the gospel” (1 Corinthians 4.15).

The first example that came to mind was Samuel. Samuel was hearing God’s voice by night. Eli mentored Samuel and encouraged Samuel to wait, listen, and respond to God’s call. In the process, Samuel would become a prophet of great renown. Next, Elijah was a prophet’s prophet and took great risk in maintaining fidelity to God’s instructions. Elijah threw his mantle on Elisha and coached him in the prophetic ministry before Elisha requested a “double portion” of Elijah’s anointing and ability as a prophet.

From the New Testament, Timothy’s biography is similar to many black and brown boys today. His grandmother and mother are acknowledged for their role in his growth and development with no mention of his father. Paul calls Timothy “his beloved and faithful son in the Lord” (1 Cor 4.17). Paul demonstrates the importance of “fathering” (nurturing and caring for) young men who are without regular contact with their biological fathers.

During Advent (the liturgical season before Christmas), Christians are called to remember and celebrate the Nativity of Jesus Christ. Joseph is asked to take on the great responsibility of caring for Mary and “fathering” God’s son. Jesus, the God-made man, began his journey in the lowly, meek, and mild form of a newborn in a manger. The gospels tell of Jesus’s adventures from boyhood to manhood, of how he grew in wisdom, stature, and favor with God and men, of his trials and ordeals, and ultimately of the completion of his redemptive work as God’s Messiah.

Two months after my son was born, I also began a new stage in my own journey to reclaim the rites of mentoring, coaching, fathering, and nurturing young men in my community as a Becoming a Man (BAM) counselor. BAM is a school-based group counseling and mentoring program for young men facilitated by men. BAM combines clinical theory, men’s rites of passage work, and a dynamic approach to youth engagement and mentoring to equip young men with the tools and guidance they need to develop into healthy and responsible adults. I have the honor and privilege to serve as a guide to over 50 young men on their own journey to manhood.

Jesus, as mentor, coach, guide, and redeemer, set out to make disciples of men and women of all nations. In doing so, he established the requirements for making God’s kingdom great again. As we celebrate the birth and coronation of Jesus as King of Kings and Lord of Lords, I challenge men to give the gift of mentoring, coaching, fathering, and discipling to the young men in their midst. By doing so, we will endeavor to make our families, communities, cities, and nation great by making men again.

I opened the year, reflecting on 20/20 vision. My focus was on allowing God’s light to shine through physical, intellectual, emotional, and spiritual goals for 2020 and well into the next decade. Three months later, the coronavirus became a pandemic and ill omen for the foreseeable future. The global focus shifted from visionary goal-setting to the collective health and well-being of our bodies, minds, and souls.

In my prayer time, I considered whether I was viewing life through yet another convenient, popular cliche and catchphrase. Advertisers had seized the moment and used Vision 2020 on billboards and in commercials to capture the interest and pockets of consumers. Was what I heard in moments of prayer and reflection, not a divine revelation for practical manifestation?

My 20/20 reflection on the determinants of sight that contribute to vision clarity is just as relevant now. Peripheral awareness helps us to see the essential workers on the margins of health care. Eye-hand coordination is needed to wash our hands, to avoid touching our face, and to wipe down surfaces. Depth perception allows us to keep a safe distance of 6 feet when out in public. Focusing ability helps balance social distancing, sheltering in place, working from home, caring for loved ones, and homeschooling children. Color vision reveals the disproportionate impact the coronavirus has on people of color.

I’ve learned that a virus is non-living. It can only exist and multiply within living host cells. The red wreaths pictured in some of the 3-D images of the coronavirus are called “corona.” These red wreath corona proteins attack healthy human cells, spread the viral infection throughout the body, and cause respiratory illness. The latest version of the coronavirus goes by many names. Popular culture has deemed it “that Rona.” Scientists refer to it as SARS-Cov-2. COVID-19 is the disease it causes. COVID-19 is an acronym: CO (corona) VI (virus) D (disease) 19 (2019).

In March, I saw the acronym Clarity of Vision Impacts Destiny see John 19 (COVID-19) as clearly as it appeared to me to reflect on Vision 20/20. The 19th chapter of John’s Gospel opens with Jesus under attack. The motley crew of Roman soldiers, officers, and temple police had arrested Jesus on trumped-up charges. After an extensive period of cross-examination, Pilate, the Roman governor of Judea, found no justification for punishing Jesus. But, each time Pilate offered to release Jesus, the crowd’s chant to “Crucify him” spread like a viral infection.

With no vaccine to regulate the contagion, Pilate eventually complies and releases Jesus to the soldiers to have him viciously beaten, scourged, and crucified. The Roman soldiers, officers, and temple police demonstrated a total and complete disregard for Jesus’ body, mind, and soul. This disregard for humanity by people in power has persisted from the 1st to the 21st century. The abuse of power and belief that one race is superior to another are symptoms of a virus. We have borne witness to the viral dehumanization of Black bodies for 400 years and, most recently, in the murders of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and Breonna Taylor.

Symptoms, though, are not the disease. They are signs and manifestations of the condition’s presence. The disease is racism, and the virus is sin. Racism, America’s original sin, is just as complex as the latest strand of the coronavirus. Prejudice and discrimination based on one group’s false sense of superior status is just as contagious and spreads just as quickly between symptomatic and asymptomatic carriers. And, similarly with still no curable vaccine in sight.

The term “corona” means garland or wreath in both Latin and Greek, the official languages of the Roman Empire. In ancient Rome, distinguished individuals received coronas in recognition of exceptional service. The Roman soldiers “wove a crown of thorns” to press into the head of the highly acclaimed King of the Jews. From the beginning of John’s Gospel, the message is clear: Jesus’s kingdom is not of this world. This world was the final destination for the fulfillment and culmination of God’s reign of both heaven and earth. With “the glory as of a father’s only son,” Jesus demonstrated the impact of a clear vision on one’s destiny.

Jesus, carrying the cross on his shoulders, knew his destination was neither Golgotha, the place of his crucifixion, nor the garden, the site of his burial. Instead, it was back to his eternal throne, seated at the right hand of God. Through his life and work, Jesus demonstrated how challenges, hardships, and setbacks are stages of the journey en route to his destination. Further, he revealed the depths of his commitment to his goal, the culmination of God’s kingdom through the restoration of all creation.

Clarity of vision helps us to see God. In the NT, the concept of destiny speaks to an order of operations determined by God’s intent to put things in order. Destiny is God’s appointed decree of what is and what is to come. In God, our destination is not a place. Instead, it is a state of being in a relationship with God, our selves, and our neighbors. Surviving and even thriving through the challenges, hardships, and setbacks of COVID-19, police brutality, and systemic racism will require a focus on God, self, and neighbor.

In the middle of John 19, the focus turns to the crucifixion of Jesus. The placard on Jesus’ cross read “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews” in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek. The inscription on George Floyd’s memorial is in two phrases, “Say Our Names” and “I Can Breathe Now.” The muralist reminds us of those who met a similar fate while transforming a common refrain and plea for help.

Among George Floyd’s final recorded words was a declaration, a plea for help: “I can’t breathe.” Floyd’s lament echoed the voice of Eric Garner, who made the same plea, “I can’t breathe,” while in a police officer’s chokehold. Among Jesus’s final words in John 19, we hear a vision for a vaccine. Love your neighbor: “Woman, here is your son.” Then he said to the disciple, “Here is your mother” (John 19.27). Love your self: “I am thirsty” (John 19.28). Love your God: “It is finished” (John 19.20).

This love-ethic is at the heart of Jesus’s message and teachings to his disciples: “I give you a new commandment that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples if you have love for one another” (John 13.33-35).

Howard Thurman wrote of “destiny dealing decisions” in describing how life presents us with opportunities to decide on a course of action without complete knowledge of the facts nor of the impact of our decisions. In reflecting on the effect of Jesus’s destiny, Thurman wrote: “it has taken more than a thousand years to determine whether the death of the Son of Man on a cross outside the city wall was a mistake. It was madness, but with that madness, Jesus discovered a new world.”

The good news of the gospel is that Jesus, the one brandished with a crown of thorns, crucified, and buried, is the Christ. This same Jesus is the resurrected Savior, and God of the oppressed now wearing an eternal crown and robed with “salvation and glory and power” (Revelations 19.1). As the late theologian, James Cone wrote, “the gospel of Jesus is not a rational concept to be explained in a theory of salvation, but a story about God’s presence in Jesus’s solidarity with the oppressed, which led to his death on the cross. What is redemptive is the faith that God snatches victory out of defeat, life out of death, and hope out of despair.”

Clarity of vision will get us to the other side of COVID-19 and this stage of police brutality and social unrest with a renewed sense of humanity’s connectedness. Christ-followers and God-fearers of every nation, creed, tongue, ethnicity, and race carry the burden of reconciliation. To engage in this ministry is to bear the cross of protesting, sitting, standing, and marching in solidarity with the oppressed. In Jesus, the God of the oppressed had a clear and decisive impact on humanity’s understanding of its individual and collective identity, purpose, and destiny.